


the last hearing

by donnarafiki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 03:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnarafiki/pseuds/donnarafiki
Summary: in one final attempt to safe himself Draco gives one last speech at his final hearing.





	the last hearing

The court was buzzing with anticipation as the hour of Malfoy’s final hearing came closer. Harry fiddled with the parchment that held his speech. He suddenly wasn’t sure if it was good enough or not.

“Harry! Harry!” Harry turned around to see a slightly out of breath Hermione join him on his right side while Ron sat down on his left.

“Change of plan mate, Malfoy will speak for himself before you go up.” Ron squeezed his shoulder in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring way. Harry didn’t focus on it much, he was suddenly very nauseated. He had spoken with Malfoy one time before and one time during his trial, and both times he’d been in a terrible state. Physically Harry didn’t think Malfoy could even speech, and mentally he rather suspected he had a severe depression.

That usually wasn’t your standard recipe for a good closing argument. And Harry’s speech wasn’t very amazing either.

“He’ll be fine Harry,” Hermione whispered as the chairman asked everyone to sit down and shut up. “You saved the wizarding world, you can-”

But she was cut off by loud gasps as a door opened and two aurors escorted, or rather carried the accused inside. He looked like a skeleton swimming in white grave clothes. His eyes were hidden behind a curtain of unkempt white blond hair that already carried large streaks of grey.

Despite that he still looked more like a thirteen than an eighteen year old. Harry gripped Ron and Hermione’s hands, so busy fighting back his nerves that he barely saw a healer rush forward to administer a foul looking potion that brought back just a little bit of colour into Malfoy’s face.

“Today’s hearing will bring a verdict in the case of Draco Malfoy. We will first hear the accused, then a special witness before the wizengamot will deliberate and reach a verdict.” The chairman announced. “Mr Malfoy, you may now speak.”

Harry abruptly looked up to see Malfoy take a deep breath. He seemed to be deliberating if he wanted to risk standing yes or no. Eventually the choice was made for him when his legs would do nothing but tremble, so he remained seated and cleared his throat.

* * *

 

“Honorable members of the wizengamot.” Draco was glad to find out his voice was quite steady. “At some point during a war you have to ask yourself, where do you live for? For yourself? Your family? For your friends? For your house? For no one? For everyone? Only for those who share your beliefs?”

“For me the answers to that have always been clear. I live for my family first, my friends second, myself if there's any time left to spare, which usually there isn't.”

“Not many people believe me when I say that, because most people see me as the pinnacle of selfish and self centred. But do you think I wanted to take the mark? Kill my headmaster? Torture people who did nothing to deserve that?” Draco was pretty sure he still looked like he could drop dead at any moment, but his voice was gaining a bit of strength.

“Most people say yes. I say no. I was sixteen. I wanted to play quidditch, read books, play chess, bully my childhood crush. I did not want to kill, I did not want to torture, I did not want to join Voldemort's ranks.” There were quite some gasps as he addressed Voldemort by his name, but most people seemed to amazed by the fact that this child like skeleton could talk at all. Draco himself barely noticed any of it. He just wanted to get this over with.

“However it didn't matter what I wanted, because there was no time to spare, and my family needed me to play a part. I did not see it as a choice. I did not see it as one of many options.” He looked up, directly into the eyes of Kingsley who now led the wizengamot. “It was my only option, and I accepted that.”

“I have always been a brilliant actor. People still think I am straight for one. They think I support Voldemort's beliefs for another. I don't. For me mudblood was an easy insult. A move that always scored, a pick up line that always worked.”

“But as soon as I was confronted with the actual meaning of the word, with actual murder and torture, all I wanted to do was run. Run and vomit.” His voice was shaking now, and every irregular breath he took send a wave of pain through his body. “All my family wanted was for me to join in. There was no spare time. I could not run.”

“I do not have a good versus evil guide line, drawn with the moral compass of a brave and proper hero. I am no Harry Potter. My line is a grey area of people I do and do not consider as family or as friends.” He cleared his throat again and glanced at the audience where Pansy, Theo and Blaise sat. He was vaguely pleased to note that even Blaise was crying.

“Why would anyone from a different house ever be on my good side? Why would anyone from my house switch sides when they are being separated from day one, stereotyped and put in a corner. You are a slytherin. You are a Malfoy. You are a Nott. You are a Black. You are bad. You are a death eater. You may only be eleven years old, you may lack the ability to think independently from your parents, but you are a true follower of the dark lord no matter if you want to be or not. We, the light side, will push you in this mould of a bad guy until you break or until you fit into it.”

He took a shaky breath, which wasn’t even an extra touch of drama but actually necessary in order for him not to pass out. “You are a slytherin. You are evil.”

“I have asked it before and I will ask it again, what reason did I have to invite other houses into my inner circle? Which one of you ever asked any of us to switch sides? You say we had plenty of opportunities. I say the only one I got was at the top of the astronomy tower, wand drawn and arm already marked, a shaking sixteen year old whose mother would die if he did not succeed. What kind of opportunity is that? What kind of choice?”

“During the war my inner circle existed out of people who I loved, and who loved me back. They were bad people with bad intentions, but I loved them nonetheless. I lived for them. I did not even know that was a choice.” His voice was properly breaking now, and he could see the majority of the wizengamot members lean forward to catch his words. Good. Let them hear as well as see what dementors do to a teenager.

“I know this may not be the speech that will get me off the hook, but it's how I think about my past. It is the story I want others to hear in the hope that they might offer a hand to those who are in the same situation.”

It was with his last strength that Draco lifted his head, and let his eyes drift over the people who would decide over his fate. “I know now that what I did was wrong. I lived for my family and the people they surrounded themselves with. I shared their morals because I never got the chance to make my own.”

He cleared his throat one last time, opening his mouth to deliver his closing lines, but he suddenly got very light headed and then everything turned black. The last thing he heard was Harry screaming out his name and the crash of his own skull against the floor.

* * *

 

Draco groaned as long as his lungs would let him. The sound caused a lot of other noises to start sounding too and Draco wanted al of them to stop so he turned on his belly and pulled his pillow over his head. Someone else tried to steal his pillow but his “fuck off that’s mine” was enough to let them stop.

Only when he hadn’t heard anything in ten minutes did he slowly crack open one of his eyes, revealing a quite unlikely but quite welcome person in the form of Harry Potter. As a way of greeting he moaned again and tentatively stretched his limbs, quickly stopping when he felt how sore they all were.

“Eh, hi.” Harry awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Why are you here?” He grumbled in return, indicating that he meant Harry by throwing his pillow at him. His memory of how he’d ended up there was very hazy, but he was pretty sure Harry hadn’t caused it.

“To play fetch with your pillow apparently.” Harry answered as he handed the pillow back to him. As a reply Draco just glared, and when that made Harry smile he glared some more.

“And because I got you off.” Harry smirked. Draco threw his pillow at him again. At least the bullying of his crush was a part of his childhood that was still just as fun after as before the war.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i wrote a speech and needed a fic to put it in so here you go. I hope you liked it. Kudos and comments are appreciated and cherished forever!


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